The Lesson One Shot
by Nimbus01
Summary: This is a "one shot" that takes place shortly after the events of "The Land Before Time: Fyn." Labon sets out to teach Fyn how to defend himself against Sharptooth attacks, but at the end of the day, he ends up learning his own lesson, as well.


The Lesson

Fyn raced across the soft, green grass that made up much of the floor of the Great Valley. Behind him, he could almost hear the Sharptooth gaining, its footsteps shaking the ground, its foul breath upon his neck. Thinking quickly, he jinked left and dove into some nearby trees in an attempt to escape. Under the cover of the forest, he hid behind a rock. All was silent.

_"Good," _he thought, _"I've lost it." _

Suddenly, without warning, the Sharptooth pounced from above the rock Fyn was hiding behind. It tackled Fyn, shouting "I got you, I got you, I did. Yep yep yep!"

Fyn shook off Ducky, the aggressor for this particular round of "Sharptooth Attack," a game popular amongst the children.

"You sure did," Fyn laughed, climbing to his feet, "I guess that makes _me _the Sharptooth, now."

Littlefoot, Cera, Petrie, and Spike came out of the surrounding bushes. They'd been able to hide early on.

"Who's Sharptooth now?" Cera asked.

Fyn didn't respond immediately. He had a plan.

"Hello?" Cera said, stepping closer, "anyone in there? I asked a question. Are you the Sharptooth or not?"

"Of course I am!" Fyn growled, whirling around to face Cera with the scariest face he could muster. Cera screamed and tripped over her tail. She began to run towards the lake. Fyn gave pursuit. He had only been in the Great Valley for a short while, but already he and the others had become good friends, though in Cera's case, it didn't always show. Once, in fact, he'd asked Littlefoot why she couldn't seem to go a full day without getting mad at someone. Littlefoot had just shrugged.

"I guess that's just her way," he had said.

Fyn was gaining on the Three-Horn, now. He started growling, for added effect. He was coming closer, closer, closer still...

"Fyn," he heard a familiar voice call, "may I borrow you for a moment?" Fyn stopped short, and Cera raced away, panting. She looked back, wondering why Fyn wasn't chasing her.

"Cera, wait!" Littlefoot called from behind, but it was too late. Not looking where she was going, Cera fell into the lake with a tremendous splash.

Fyn spotted his father, Labon, drinking at the water's edge. He was trying to stifle a laugh, but was having trouble. Finally, he spoke.

"Another female, distracted by my charms," he chuckled, regarding Cera as she crawled out of the water soaking wet. Cera turned to scowl until she realized who had spoken.

"Mr. Fin-Neck," she said, hurriedly replacing her furious expression with one of shock.

"Don't worry," he said, "sorry for teasing you. You kids won't mind if I steal Fyn for the day, would you?"

"Oh, it's fine with us, yes it is," Ducky answered.

"Thank you so much," Labon said.

"I'll see you later!" Fyn called to the gang. Then he turned to face his father.

"What did you want to see me about, Dad?"

"Well," Labon said, casually stretching, "your mother told me that you learned a few little Longneck tricks on your way here."

Fyn nodded, recalling the brief lessons on how to stand on his back legs.

"She also said you're quite the fast learner."

Fyn blushed. "Well, I suppose I kind of got the hang of it. What I mean to say is-"

"Do you want to learn more?" Labon cut in.

Fyn wasn't following. "More?"

"If you want, I'd be willing to teach you how to use what you've learned to defend yourself. Who knows? Maybe I'll even show you something new."

"Cool!" Fyn said. It wasn't often that he and his father had the chance to get together back in the grove, "when can we start?"

"Right now, if you're ready. Let's see if we can find a clearing in the forest. Follow me."

…

It wasn't long before they found the perfect spot: a circular glade with branches hanging over it. The light that came through the leafy roof in patches added to the spot's serene effect.

"Alright," Labon said, "this place looks as good as any. Show me what your mother taught you."

Fyn stepped over to a tree, and, remembering his mother's instructions, walked his front feet up its trunk. When he was almost vertical, he pushed off, balancing on his back legs. He looked over at his father. Labon's face was passive. Suddenly, he fell. He could hear his father chuckling quietly.

"You _have _learned quite a bit already. It takes a lot of skill and trust in yourself to do that, but there's more to defense than standing up. Do you know why you fell?"

"Well," Fyn said, thinking, "I guess I was looking at you, instead of trying to balance."

"Exactly. That's the first rule of defense. Never take your mind off of the situation, no matter how much you may want to at times. One slip of concentration, and bad things can happen. Try again, but concentrate this time."

Fyn went back to the tree and repeated his actions, but this time he only focused on his goal: to remain standing. He was still balanced when his father said "well done. You can lower yourself down now."

Fyn was amazed. He'd never stood that long before. He was definitely in the mood to learn now.

"The next thing we need to do is to get you to stand by pushing off the ground. Trees won't always be around, and they have a tendency to never be there when you need them most. Now this looks hard, but there _is_ a trick."

He rocked forward on his front legs, then threw his head and shoulders back quickly, rising off of the ground at the same time. He was balanced perfectly. Fyn couldn't help but marvel at the image of his father, framed by the trees and the soft sunlight. He was brought back to reality by the sound of him crashing down to earth again, the force rattling the teeth in his mouth. His father could certainly create an impression.

"I think I get it," Fyn said, "can I try?"

"If you're ready."

Fyn stepped back for some extra space, trying to remember what Labon had done. He crouched forward, and tried to push off the ground, but he didn't get far before he came back down.

"You have the right idea," said Labon, "but you need to trust yourself. Push harder, roll your shoulders, and throw your neck back."

Fyn tried again. He sprang off of the ground, this time doing everything his father had said. Immediately, his front feet rose into the air. He was doing it! Then he crashed back into the ground, rolling onto his side.

"Good start. Now try to combine what your mother taught you about balance and what I've just showed you to do."

Again, Fyn repeated his actions, this time focusing on staying balanced. He pushed off, and teetered on his back legs for a moment, then steadied himself! He began to laugh. Finally, he'd figured it out! He lowered himself back down.

"Cool! I'm all set now!"

"Not quite," Labon said. "There's more to defending yourself than simply doing tricks. Not all battles need to be fought. At your age, the best defense is running away."

Fyn looked puzzled. Had his father just mentioned running away? The leader who, battered and nearly defeated, had taken on the same Sharptooth twice only to walk the rest of the way to the Great Valley afterwards? He must have heard wrong. Labon caught his quizzical expression.

"Remember, Fyn, your goal is always to survive, not to gain glory from trying to pick fights. Because you're small, you can run faster than grown-ups, and that gives you an advantage that most of us are not lucky enough to have. You can hide. Keva told me how you hid in the cave when the Sail-Teeth raided the grove."

Fyn shuddered, remembering all too well.

"That's exactly what you should have done. Your actions let you live. That said, you'll grow up faster than you may think. When that happens, you'll be forced to rely less on running and more on this."

Labon turned slightly, bringing his massive tail into view. Like all Fin-Necks, his tail was muscular, long enough to balance when walking, and tapered to a thin tip at the end. Regarding the tip, Labon said "your tail doesn't look exactly like this, but as you grow older, it will. With us Fin-Necks, it's not the strength of the tail that is our greatest asset, but the tip."

He suddenly whipped his tail through the air with a loud "crack." A branch fell, split in two. Fyn was amazed. He'd never seen what a tail could do up close.

"Doesn't that hurt?" he asked.

"Nope. Fin-Necks can't feel anything on that part of the tail. Now, another thing to remember: don't do what I just did unless you are sure that everyone else is clear. A misplaced tail-hit can make someone else's day miserable."

Fyn nodded.

"That movement will come naturally as you grow older. You'll get the hang of it." Labon said, as Fyn began to swing his small, stubby tail.

"Dad," Fyn said when he had stopped, "where did you learn all of this from?"

"Lots of this has been passed down over generations. In fact, everything I know I learned from my father and Poldar."

"Your father? Wow. What was he like?" Fyn asked.

"Well, he was a lot like Poldar, actually. He was brave, and strong, and he knew just what to say all the time. It was like he could tell just by looking at you exactly how you were feeling. He was Poldar's friend, and his deputy as well. Unfortunately, I never got to spend much time with him because he was always so busy. Sound familiar?"

Fyn was astounded. Up until now, he had thought Labon had called him here for a short lesson. Now, he could see things were different. For the moment, he was speechless.

"Dad, is something the matter?"

"There's another reason why I called you up here. I wanted to talk."

"About what?" Fyn was confused now.

"I'm just worried that I haven't always been there for you in the past. When I was training for the position of herd leader, just after you were born, I couldn't spend much time with any of our family. I've just felt so guilty about this for all these years. I know I really haven't been much of a father to you, so-"

"But you _have_ been. It was you who encouraged me after the Sharptooth attacked, and it's you who's with me right now. I don't think you've been a terrible father at all. In fact, whether or not you know it, you've always been there for me."

Labon was taken aback by his son's wisdom.

"You don't blame me for almost never being around back at the grove? Or forcing you and your mother to make the journey to the Great Valley alone?"

"Of course not," Fyn said, sitting next to his father. "Everything that happened was beyond your control."

Labon looked relieved.

"Dad, was that really all that was troubling you?"

"It was, Fyn. Believe it or not, dads like me have plenty of things that bother them."

"I guess so," Fyn said.

The two simply sat in silence for a moment, taking in the peaceful surroundings. Fyn was the first to break the silence.

"So, are you going to finish our lesson, or what?"

Labon looked at him, briefly studying his son. Fyn had grown up a lot in the time it had taken to reach the Valley, but despite everything, he was still a child at heart.

"Of course we will," he said, standing back up. He launched right back into his lesson, and for the rest of the day, he and his son were engaged in mock battles against invisible Sharpteeth, and warding the nonexistent predators away from equally imaginary herds. By the time they were done, they were exhausted and happy. They took a few steps out of the forest, and collapsed onto the ground, after having finished a scenario involving Fast Biters. The Bright Circle was beginning to set, and Fyn could see his mother on the other side of the Valley.

"We should probably get going."

Labon nodded, getting to his feet.

"You know," he said, "I don't think you were the only one to learn something new today."

"What do you mean?" Fyn asked as they walked toward home.

"Well, I taught you how to defend yourself, but _you_ taught me something equally important."

"What's that?"

"Just how important it is for me to spend some time with my family." He smiled. "It's a privilege no leadership position could ever force me to give up. I'm glad we talked today."

"Me too, Dad."

Fyn and Labon had both learned a lesson that day, and the two were content with the new knowledge each had was, in reality, so much that each had yet to discover about the other, but those discoveries would be made over time, as Fyn grew older. For now, however, they simply enjoyed the peace that their new life had brought them. They walked toward home, father and son, sharing the last moments of daylight together.


End file.
